Somewhere Between Obsession And Compulsion Is Impulse.

Thus People--so It Seems To Me-- Become Good Friends From Sheer Ennui.

Moral Maxims Are Surprisingly Useful On Occasions When We Can Invent Little Else To Justify Our Actions.

As Long As There Is One Heart On Earth Where I Still Live, My Memory Will Not Die.

It's A Lucky Man, A Very Lucky Man, Who Is Committed To What He Believes, Who Has Stifled Intellectual Detachment And Can Relax In The Luxury Of His Emotions - Like A Tipsy Traveller Resting For The Night At Wayside Inn.

I Was Not Born To Amuse The Tsars.